yesterday's post after reading comments and talking to friends. i think the general craziness i bring to the world has tainted somewhat my intentions in this reflection on Conan's words. i didn't intend for it to seem downtrodden. to clarify:
i was surprisingly touched catching up with that last show over my laptop and had one of those "damn, they's is talking to me" moments when Conan looked into the camera: "Nobody in life gets exactly what they thought they were going to get. But if you work really hard and you’re kind, amazing things will happen."
and i felt myself rebel. i'm a good person. i work hard and am nice to people. and i wanted to say: i am not a cynic. which gave me pause. that confusion is what led me to blog-it-out.
just how much of a cynic am i? how much of that latent struggle between happiness/depression/cynicism/naivete hold me back from achieving what i seek? does even my own humor hold me back?
and yet, part of what i am, shaping the cartoon caricature of my soul, is that tug-of-war between skeptic and dreamer. singer and weeper. story-teller and loner.
the chubby girl in the funny costume, saying "yeah? that's right. i'm a butterfly. deal."
and yet, Conan begs, don't be a cynic. can i bypass the question by denying the struggle and faking peace till i am at peace?
would that solve anything at all?
clearer now? bees.
Cover me with your revelation
Cover me with your sorrows tale
Cover me with your holy water
Cover me, dancing virginia